Little Talks
by Musafreen
Summary: Truths and Lies, as told in the Underworld. / Written for the FI Winter Exchange.


**Notes:** This fic was written (which is to say, hurriedly cobbled together from a set of prompts in the wake of three/four ideas which clearly did not work as well as I expected them to) for the FI Winter Exchange for Darcy. Prompts uses were _Little Talks by OMM_, _death is but the next great adventure_ and _love makes us liars_. And while I can't pinpoint where exactly that first one was used, I swear it played a part in coming up with this whole thing- so I gave it an honorary mention in the title (what do you mean, I was too lazy to think up a title of my own?).

Ahem, anyway. Darcy, I'm not sure if this is to your tastes (your prompt was a little open-ended and I think I exploited that a bit more than I should have), but I really hope you like it. Happy Winter or whatever it is we're supposed to be exchanging fics for.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not for profit.

**Warnings:** Some swearing. Mentions of sex, sexualities, insanity, death and unrequited love. Fun times. Pairings include a godawful mess of Percy-Annabeth-Nico-Rachel-Apollo, which is generally my go-to godawful mess of pairing. Collection of people bound together by pairing-feelings. Whatever.

But essentially, this is a_ very_ platonic fic. Pinky promise.

* * *

**Little Talks**

_truths and lies, as told in the land of the dead_

* * *

**_1._**

**_elysium  
_**

___"death is but the next great adventure"_

* * *

Time doesn't quite flow the way it should in paradise- mostly because there is always sunshine and fluffy clouds and a light breeze. Perfect weather for all of eternity.

Eternity. _Always_. Twenty four hours a day. Seven days a week. Till the mind-numbing constancy made you forget the fact that there were days and weeks and months and years and frankly Percy really wasn't the kind of guy who morosely marked off hours on the walls of his really very nice ocean-themed private mansion.

(He'd signed the petition requesting Hades to allow mild seasonal changes in Elysium, but there was another faction headed by a long dead Demeter kid violently opposing the idea- which meant that the petition was likely to get lost in Hades' never-ending mountain of. Undecided issues of Elysium generally got much less attention than undecided issues in the Fields of Punishment. Mostly, the lord of the dead left Elysium to run itself- heros were supposed to be capable of taking care of themselves, and all.

Was there _supposed_ to be democracy in paradise? Because he wasn't sure how well that worked.)

Sunshine and seasons or lack thereof of both, one thing had become crystal clear with alarming speed: without Annabeth, paradise was really starting to bore the hell out of him, pun intended.

So Percy had traded in his too-comfortable bed (he _liked_ sleep-just not as much of it he ended up doing here) and his too-lavish mansion (he understood now why Rachel had darkly called her beautiful penthouse a mausoleum) for a blanket, a magical food tray and a PS10; and camped out at the entrance to Elysium for… a while now, he supposed. One fine hour (days? What days?) sometime after his third playthrough of a random game he'd never heard of when he was alive, he was woken up by a shadow hovering over his face.

"Nico, hi!" Percy grinned up at him, "Am I glad to see you-uh, wait. That means you're dead now? Sorry about that."

"Hi Percy," Nico smiled back, "And yeah. I wasn't really- expecting that. Can I sit down here for a minute?"

People in Elysium, he'd learned, tended to appear in the form they were most confortable in, regardless of how old they were when they died. Percy's body was stuck in his mid-thirties, but Nico's looked younger.

"So what finally got to you?" Percy scooted away on his blanket to make room for Nico, "Is there some monster up there crowing about killing the Ghost King?"

"Passed away peacefully in my sleep," Nico replied, "Lotus casino might have kept us physically young, but my organs were still under strain, I guess. Still, eighty's not a bad run."

Eighty. That meant-

Percy glared at the sky. He'd been here for twelve years and he'd barely noticed it. He was _really_ going to have to get that bill passed.

"I guess you're waiting for Annabeth?"

"I would ask how you guessed, but even I know how obvious I am," Percy grumbled, "And once she's here she can strategize about how we can get them to pass the seasons."

"Huh?"

"Elysian democracy. It's like the Athenian democracy, but with more violence. Hell in heaven." Percy paused, "Annabeth- is she?"

"She's fine. She was terrorizing her interns, last I saw her." Nico said, "She really misses you. A lot."

"Yeah," Percy sighed at the grass, "I know how that feels. But we had a life together. And we'll have eternity together after that. Doesn't seem fair to complain about it."

"Seventy-two was pretty young," Nico pointed out.

"Not for a demigod," Percy said, "A full long life. I have no regrets."

"Yeah," Nico muttered.

"Don't tell me you have any regrets," Percy nudged Nico's shoulder with his, "I mean, you started off a little badly, but you more than made up for it. The world should be happy about Nico di Angelo living in it."

"No," Nico smiled at the grass, "No regrets. Not really, I guess. Except-"

Percy waited.

"I loved you."

A pause.

"Um, that's nice," Percy awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, "I love you too, Nico. You're like a second kid brother-"

"No," Nico interrupted, "I loved you. As in romantically. As in the I know it's not biologically possible but I would like to try and make babies with you anyway kinda love."

For a long time, they could hear nothing but the chirping birds and the babbling brooks of Elysium.

"Huhwhat?" Percy said intelligently.

"It's okay," Nico laughed, "It was- well. I can't say I ever got over it. But you had Annabeth- and I… adjusted. Eventually."

"But I thought you and Rachel-"

"Strictly platonic."

"But we once _caught you two naked in bed_- wait. Are you bisexual?"

"No."

"…I don't understand."

"Apollo was between us. He kind of did his vanishing act at that point- stupid prophet gods," Nico said, clearly blushing, "Can we not talk about this anymore?"

"Um, okay," Percy blinked, "Uh- wow. I didn't know-"

"Most people didn't," Nico shrugged, "I don't exactly advertise. Also, no social life to speak of."

"Wow," Percy repeated, "I really didn't- I think I need a moment here."

Well. That explained a lot. All those long looks and blushes and Annabeth's continued insistence that he had a crush on her but Nico never even looking at her whenever he was around him. Suddenly, dozens of little memories from over the years started to make a whole lot of sense.

They sat there, quiet, for a few minutes. Or it felt like that anyway. Given Elysium, Percy glumly figured it could have been months. Who could tell?

"You don't mind me sitting here?" Nico finally asked, his voice quiet, "I don't make you uncomfortable?"

"Well," Percy scratched his neck, "It's a lot to take in, but- no. Not really. I think you telling me this here and now –as opposed to when I was actually alive and with Annabeth- proves that I have no reason to be uncomfortable around you?"

"Is that _logic?_"

"Too many years married to Annabeth," Percy said, "I tried to remain uncorrupted, but it was a lost cause. Although- speaking of Annabeth… _she_ might not take this too well. She was convinced you had an unrequited crush on _her_. Are you going to tell her?"

"Well, yeah. It's only fair, especially now that you know. But Rachel made me promise to wait till she was around before telling her," Nico grinned, settling himself in, "We have plans for the Underworld. This is just the beginning."

* * *

_**2.**_

_**the styx**_

_"love makes us liars"_

* * *

He doesn't expect this.

Luke barely recognizes her when she steps out of the boat- she is not half crazed, her hair is not mostly grey. There is barely any residue of peanut-butter on her skirt, or tears or drool on her blouse. Her eyes are warm and blue, and they linger on him for a moment, with frank curiosity.

He suppresses a shiver. Seeing _sanity_ in them was unnerving.

Hades' skeleton escort is watching his back, always unmoving- being cleared by the judges of the Underworld did not mean that he wasn't the criminal who had turned against Olympus. It just got him a courtesy guard instead of the Fields of Punishment. Just in case this was all one elaborate plot to overthrow the gods again. Gods knew, he'd hated his father enough for that.

"Any reason you're looking at me, young man?"

Something about the Underworld makes it easy to get lost in your own thoughts, and Luke doesn't realize that she's come closer to him, till their faces are barely inches apart. He startles, stumbles and rises up from where he's been sitting on the ground. Given the years he's been here, it _should_ have cramped; but things didn't work normally in the land of the dead.

Standing, she's shorter then she is. Him taller and trembling and barely in control of herself, her smaller and self-assured and steady- the exact opposite of what his memories assure him things are supposed to be.

"Mom." he manages.

"Luke?" her eyes widen, and her hands fly to his arms, "_Luke?_"

"Hi."

She laughs then. Hugs him and holds him and crows that she knew he would grow up to be just a heartbreaker, and all he can do is hug back- smell the scent of her hair and try not to cry at her warmth.

She draws back after what seems like an eternity, and gives him a sharp glance, "Why are you here before me?"

"I died."

Her eyebrow quirks at him, and he grins back reflexively. There's something about her like this- all warm and happy and sane, that squeezes at his heart. It's a happiness that's as painful as it's pleasing. Seeing her brings back too many images- an excess of peanut butter and jelly and tears. Love wrapped up in an insanity that didn't diminish it as much as throw it into starker contrast.

"As a hero," he tells her, surprising himself, "I have no regrets."

Aside from being a total and blatant lie (Minos and company might have cleared him, but the damage he did couldn't really be forgotten over one semi-heroic suicidal act), it was also so something he'd had no intention of whatsoever of saying. But seeing her like this- it made _sense_, why an Olympian (his father, unfeeling bastard) loved her enough to break conventions.

Wasn't he enough of a monster without taking that glow away from her, bringing up a past even he admitted was best forgotten?

"Not exactly reassuring," May frowns, and touches his face again, like she still can't believe this is real, "Still. A little too late for quibbling now, I suppose. For both of us."

"You fell- into a coma," Luke says, before she can ask. Before her eyes drag the truth out of him- lies always come easier when you're not answering a direct question. "When you tried to take the Oracle, I mean."

He knows her memories as her time as the not-Oracle are gone now. Swept away between Hades and Hermes- two gods trying to make amends for their past mistakes. Simple mercies, really- nowhere near enough to counter the enormity of their wrongs. But it brings back this woman, all light and smiles and hope, even at this dismal shore; and he silently (reluctantly) thanks them for it.

"I wanted to meet you," Luke lies again, unwilling to take this _happiness_ from her, "Dad- Hermes, he told me a lot about you. So I asked Lord Hades if I could wait to see you." Another smile, another lie, "Didn't have to wait for long."

"That's-" he can see that she's upset, "I should have been there to look after you. My poor baby."

"No," he assures her, "I was happy. I'm guessing I never even knew- well, never even had the opportunity to miss anything, I suppose."

His mother's grip tightens, and he wills himself not to break. Not to scream and rage and tell her that it was her insane and desperate _caring_ that pushed him to the edge, made him teeter on the precipice till Thalia's tree and his father's quest made him jump off it.

"I have to go," he says abruptly, "I am- I'm going to be born again. I was just waiting for you to come so I could-" a single truth, here, "say goodbye."

She'd probably find out everything, in Elysium. Her madness, his madness. It wasn't like their story was a secret. But at least he wouldn't have to be there to see the look on her face when she knows it.

The skeletons clank, moving. Their faces, till now facing the Styx, turns into another direction. He knows what lies there- he had reached the banks and almost touched the waters, before turning away abruptly because there were some memories he was not ready to let go of yet.

If the Styx is stillness, the Lethe is- funnily enough, life. Fast and flowing and alive with foam. Memories _swept away_, not puffed into smoke. The di Angelo boy had told him that erasing human memories was a long process- the Lethe only _hid_, it took a second life to truly wipe away the first.

May says more inane words and hugs him- a son she barely knows, caught up between affection and confusion. There's just- _so much_ he wanted to say. Rage and fury- scream at her for daring to take the Oracle. Cry into her shoulder for everything after.

Instead, he smiles at her as he turns away.

Rebirth. Right.

He follows the skeletons to the river, and really hopes things go better this time.

* * *

**End Notes/Shameless Advertising:** If anyone's looking for PJO/HoO challenges/prompts, try the Fanfiction ImagiNation forum. You might even find a category that piques your interest. :)


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